Eternality

In my religion we’re taught not to mourn the dead – primarily because we understand that life is eternal. This was not always the easiest concept for me to grasp, especially when someone close to me passed away.

When my dad died, that was probably the first whopper that I had to face. I was in my 30s at the time and remember taking the adjustment that he did not die, but instead moved to California and gave up his telephone. This helped. Often, over the years we have had little visits in my dreams and I’m always grateful for those times together no matter how intangible they are.

Lately, dear friends seem to have been dropping right and left. So many, in fact, that I find myself feeling slightly accustomed to the experience. The Aids epidemic in New York where I live was a rough stretch also. Working in the theater where there has always been a large gay population, I lost over a hundred friends and cohorts over time. That disease decimated several generations of hugely talented artists and changed the course of the American theater.

In the experience with Aids I found that the real mourning took place not when they finally passed away, but when they were first diagnosed. At that time the disease was so fatal that once a person was diagnosed, it was over. That’s when the mourning took place. Then, what they went through in the ensuing months was so rough that by the time they left us, we were grateful that it was over for them. Now, gratefully, people, at least here in the U.S. seem to live through it more often than not.

So death is not a concept unknown to me. I’ve learned to cope with it. Unfortunately, I’ve had a lot of practice. I’ve learned to celebrate the life and not mourn the death. I’ve made a choice to attend memorials and avoid funerals when possible. I’ve learned to think the phrase, “God needed them elsewhere” over and over until I accept the logic of it. I’ve learned to focus on the soul and spirit of the person and not the body. I’ve considered the eternality of life and simply decided to totally buy into the concept and live it as hard as I can, moment to moment.

And still, that first moment of information, “Did you hear…?” is shocking, stops me in my tracks, and changes the world. Because they moved to California…

So I’m able to get on top of it pretty quickly. I’m able to consider life and not death. And I’ve finally gotten over the guilt I often would feel for not mourning when so many others around me were. I simply mourn in a different way. I try to appreciate the greatness of their life and leave it at that. I visualize them moving forward, leaving the body behind, probably leaving their hard drive, their earth experience memory, behind also. This, I figure, will happen to me too. Wherever I go next, I probably won’t remember this experience. After all, I don’t remember the last experience in this life. Maybe I will remember. I don’t know. No point in speculating.

I figure I don’t want to be mourned; I want to be remembered. Please skip over my so called death and focus on my life, my songs, my good deeds, my family, my funny moments, my past, my present and my future. Please focus on my immortality, my eternal person.

I’ll do the same for you.